


New Beginnings

by Lispet



Series: Unrelated Striders [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7475946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lispet/pseuds/Lispet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro is an eligible bachelor with the adeptness of an irradiated badger. Enter D, the older brother to his younger brother's boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginnings

Despondency isn't a thing I am prone to, which is fortunate in hindsight, if not for me then for my brother. I try not to lament that he's growing up, just about to graduate from university with a diploma and a new boyfriend.  


I say ‘new’ like Dave goes through boyfriends like rolls of film. He doesn't. This is the second person he's ever dated, at the tender age of twenty.  


He's happy, which is what counts, and I'm happy that he's happy. He deserves it after all he's been through, whether it be long hours of study or working at the bar, or the difficulties of having such a messed up childhood on top of his body issues. A lot of it is my fault, and there are a lot of things I wish I could have done differently to improve my standing with him. It doesn't matter how much I care now, I haven't always shown it and I haven't been the best guardian. And I can't even say I tried my best.  


I fed him, I kept him alive, I taught him how to strife and cook and how to drive and go to the shops and buy things. I did what I could when I could, but it was not my best. I tried not to smother him, and let him make mistakes. But I wasn't a very good parent.  


I think that the thing that bothers me the most about Dave's boyfriend, is that I don't need to be introduced to him. Not in the ‘he and a close friend finally realised the growing sexual tension between them and hooked up’, but in the ‘his boyfriend is the younger brother of an object of my fixation’ way.  


It is definitely an odd thought, and definitely makes for amusing conversation.  


I am a very all or nothing person, especially with my interests. Whether it be sewing, horses, puppets, enjoying things ironically, or Derrick ‘D’ Strider, I get fixated to the point of obsession.  


And ironically, (much to my delight and horror) my younger brother is dating Derrick’s younger brother. After I've had the biggest crush on Derrick for the last eighteen odd years.  


Dirk is a pretty nice kid, he's studying programming or something like that at the same university Dave is at, and he works in a coffee shop somewhere nearby. Where, I don't know. My love of coffee does not extend beyond strong and black midrange grinds that I can make at home without paying five bucks a pop.  


But the fact that my brother and Derrick’s brother are A Thing means that sooner or later I would be faced with meeting the man himself, and that is something I would never be prepared for, because a guy needs time to hide all incriminating evidence. Like the mountain of smuppets, the dirty dishes, and most importantly the stacks of DVDs, where the only discernible link between them is that he has directed or written the script (or both) for each and every one, from his signature Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff series, right back to his indie roots where he got a deal with a small company to produce his very first film.  


And now he's one of the most proclaimed writers and directors in Hollywood, and he still lives in the apartment he lived in when he started out, a mere seven or so blocks from my apartment.  


But I need time to make it seem like I'm a functional adult who don't need no man, and like I'm not an obsessive stalkerish creep who knows far too much.  


Time that I am not given.  


Dave and Dirk get dropped off at my place after dinner time, they're staying here, it's not a work night, and so when they come in I'm watching TV in my trackies with a bowl of leftover pasta in my lap. I remember to say hi, and they don't vanish to Dave's room to do whatever they do. They definitely don't fool around, at least not here. I'd know because our apartment isn't particularly high end, and the sound bleeds right through the third rate plaster.  


I look up, naturally. Dave and Dirk are at least over by the door to Dave's room.  


“Have fun you two.” Dirk is smiling, and they both disappear behind Dave's bedroom door.  


I turn my gaze to the other half of the room instead, and Derrick is standing about a meter away from the front door.  


He appears very out of place, neat and pressed shirt, neat tie, neat hair. Against the backdrop of a stained, yellowing wall, and a entryway cluttered with shoes and swords and never used coats. His nice Italian leather shoes on a threadbare rug that hasn't been swept or vacuumed for as long as it has been my welcome mat, which is forever.  


I freeze, one hand still holding the warm half bowl of pasta, and the other on my bare chest where I was in the process of removing a deep seated itch.  


I drop my hand to my lap again, and set the bowl on the stained coffee table without taking my eyes off him. He might vanish or move or talk or do something else I am equally unprepared for.  


“Hello.” It takes me a few moments to find my tongue, and the right words. It falls flat and sounds forced.  


“Hey, nice to meet you.” He steps further into my apartment, and closer to me. I hold myself very, very still. Maybe he won't notice me if I just don't react. “I'm Dirk's brother, Derrick.”  


The words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them. “I know.” The ensuing silence is awkward, I think. My brain works overtime to try to catch up and think of what to say.  


He shifts his weight a little. “Dirk's mentioned you a few times. Uh, Bro?” He makes a noble stab at continuing the conversation, if it can be called that.  


“Darius.” I say, memories of Regular Human Conversation jogged. “I'm Darius.” I should probably put a shirt on, and put the pasta in the kitchen. Why couldn't I just get five minutes warning? Dave could have texted when he was in the foyer about to come up the stairs. Oh god Derrick had to climb all of the flights of stairs up here. Why would Dave think it was a good idea to invite him up here. “But Bro is fine.” He seems to accept that, it's much easier to say ‘Bro’ than ‘Darius’. “Would you like to sit?” I try to remember the order these things go in. I know he doesn't like coffee, and he has his tea with milk and one sugar.  


“Thank you.” He sits on the other side of the couch to me, and I offer him a cup of tea.  


He accepts.  


I use that as an excuse to escape to the kitchen, really only separated from the living room by a waist high bench, to put the pasta back in the fridge and boil the kettle.  


It's very quiet whilst I do that, I don't know what to say to him, and he is looking around my living room. I sit back where I was and hand him the mug of tea without a word, and he thanks me. I tell him he's welcome after a moment.  


"So you like horses?" He asks, glancing from my face to the TV. My Little Pony is on. I nod. Conversation is not my forte and he definitely notices. I really don't want every conversation with him to be so awkward, because if our brothers keep going on like they are I'm going to see this guy a hell of a lot more, but I have a killer crush on him and he's really intimidatingly hot.  


He chuckles, and it takes me a second to realise that I said all of that, or enough of it, out loud. I either focus too hard on my thoughts, or I hardly notice them at all, and situations like this make me more introspective and I don't always remember whether I'm alone and whether certain things are Acceptable.  


“I'm not sure which part of that I liked most.” He says. I'm not sure if his tone is joking or mocking. “Probably the ‘intimidatingly hot’ bit.” I think he might not be joking, and I don't think he's mocking either. He seems genuinely amused, but oddly sincere at the same time.  


“I'm not lying.” I tell him. I meant it. He's incredibly handsome, very pretty. Delicate though. I don't usually find myself attracted to delicate people, but there's something about him that piqued my interest and held it intensely enough for this to become another obsession.  


“No, I believe you.” He says. He's still smiling and looking at me too much like he's expecting me to meet his gaze but he really is intimidating. He's achieved so much in his life so far. One of the most successful directors ever. Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor eight years running. I wish I was joking but I have the magazines in my room as proof.  


“Good.” I shift to sit up a little straighter, although my posture is ruined when I cross my legs on the couch. I really want to kiss him, or him to kiss me, I guess. The last thing I want to do is to overstep my bounds. “Will you take Dirk with you when you go home?” I ask. I'm not sure if he is just here to drop Dirk and Dave off, or to just drop Dave off. They are both adults so it doesn't bother me in the slightest what they do or where they are, so long as they're safe.  


“Nah.” He stretches out comfortably, crossing one leg over the other. “I think he's staying.”  


I nod. I thought he would have left by now, now that I know he's not waiting for anyone. “Would you like a drink?” I forget that I've offered already, because maybe if he stays here talking for long enough, then he will stay the night. I can offer him my bed, and sleep here on the futon. That does mean that I will have to go and tidy my room up and make it look like I'm not totally obsessed with this guy, which mostly entails removing a few things from the walls like newspaper clippings, photos, a few movie posters, and shifting my DVDs into a less conspicuous spot.  


His response is in the negative, and he lifts his still half-full mug. But this time he goes on from there. “Is it just you and Dave here? Or is there someone else in your life?”  


“No one else lives here.” I reply. I'm not sure if that's clear enough, so I elaborate. “I'm not dating anyone.” Perhaps too forward, but I don't know what else might be relevant here. “Would you be interested?” I don't really know what prompted me to add that bit, perhaps I made the split second decision that the hole I have been digging myself wasn't quite deep enough. Or that the hole was deep enough and I thought right now would be a good time to off myself. Social suicide is a thing, right?  


His face kind of stiffens around the mouth, and I think I've said the wrong thing for sure. Well, it was worth a try, I guess. It was nice sharing my story with you all whilst it lasted.  


He sets his mug down and laughs, and I know he's lost all respect for me, or what little he might have had. “You're way cuter than I expected.” See? I'm fucking psychic. “I wanna keep you.”  


“Uhh.” Computing error number I don't fucking know. Reason: I haven't planned this far ahead. “Really?” Call me weird or whatever but this is right up my alley. Like. He can keep me if he wants.  


“Yeah.”  


Oh God. “Then yeah, ‘s cool.” I try to play it cool, and not like my entire life hinges on this. I'm thirty five, not fifteen. Jeez. “Does that mean we can kiss? Sign the deal or whatever? You don't have some legal, privacy disclaimer do you?” He doesn't. I've checked.  


“No, nothing like that at all. I'm a free man, as it were.”  


“‘S cool.” I can't remember if I've said that already, and I feel like a teenager when I shuffle closer to him.  


I don't know what he actually likes, and I don't know how into this he is, so I just have to take a wild stab in the dark when he doesn't immediately grab me and push me back against the couch as I’m used to, so instead that's what I do to him. My hands fit around his shoulders easily, he's rather thin and lanky, quite fragile looking actually, so I'm extra careful when I lean against him to pin him against the couch and press my lips to his.  


We end up making out like a pair of teenagers, me kneeling over him like that. I feel quite uneasy the whole time, I've no way to be certain I'm doing the right thing because I'm not used to taking charge like this, but he seems to be enjoying it. I leave two small hickeys low on his neck, and he only protests when Dave and Dirk come out briefly to the kitchen, and one of them mutters ‘unbelievable’. I'm not too perturbed, but he seems embarrassed so I shift away and let him sit up and make himself look neater.  


It's much to my disappointment that he insists he should go home after that incident, but he leaves his number and gets mine, and says he looks forward to the next time he sees me.  


That's a nerve wracking prospect, and I want him to absolutely ruin me if he hasn't already, so I nod and agree with him, and walk him to the door. He surprises me with one final, and rather chaste kiss, before he leaves, and I'm left standing by the front door trying to figure out if I imagined all of that.

**Author's Note:**

> [Index here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7510270)
> 
> Ongoing series, requests welcome and encouraged, any character, any point in the timeline.


End file.
